If the Walls Could Talk
by krystal-chan
Summary: A terrorist group known as Delta9 unleashed an attack of a deadly air-borne bacteria. Will Max and Logan be able to stop it?
1. Prologue

> _Drip. _  
She looked up at the dripping ceiling with disgust, then at the gray plastic bucket below. It was almost filled with the dirty, brown liquid that she had come to know as rain water. To think this shit fell from the sky.  
_Drip._  
She stared down at her hands and studied them. So slender and small, fragile almost. To think they were the hands of a killer. She turned them over and stared down at her palms, studying every line. Rubbing the pads of her fingertips together, she felt the texture of her skin, then turned her hand over again and concentrated on picking at a small scar. A scar that shouldn't have a name. She wasn't even human after all. Well, not 100%.   
_Drip_.  
Damn, she'd have to see to getting that leak fixed. That dripping was really getting monotonous. Letting her arm drop to her side, she closed her eyes, hoping to get some sort of rest before the sun came up.   
_Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.   
"YOU WILL NOT GIVE UP!" Shouts.  
"I WILL NOT GIVE UP!" Running.  
"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" Lydecker. Asshole.  
"I WILL NOT GIVE UP!" Louder. More running.  
"And if you are captured?" Oh the question. The question.  
"I WILL NOT BE CAPTURED." Already captured. In a torture chamber of military-style child abuse.  
Captured. White stretchers and the smell of Lysol disinfectant. Lydecker's approval. He always smelled like cigars and Old Spice. Damn that Lydecker. Seizures. The room. The white room. NO!  
_She woke up, gasping for air. Disoriented, she looked around her, then realized she was safe. Pulling her knees to her chest, she whimpered as her lower lip trembled. She was alone. So alone. Sighing, she leaned heavily against the wall as her X-5 combat training kicked in. _You are a soldier. Crying is not for soldiers_.   
She took in a deep breath and let it out.   
Then she cried.  
  



	2. Chapter 1

> White.  
That was the color of peace, innocence, and the color of the paint on the blank wall she was staring at. Frozen. She was frozen in this frame of time. Her thoughts ran circles in her mind. Wonderment.  
White.  
The color of hell. She remembered those lights, harsh and glaring. Remembered the eyes that stared at her inquisitively, poking and prodding with cold objects. She was a guinea pig in a white cage with no doors or windows. Not even walls. Just neverending white nothingness. It was always so cold. She was always so cold. She wondered if she would always be cold even though she had escaped from that world. For a while she had thought she would be. An eternal ice princess, frozen. Then she met him. Ah yes, him. Logan. Mr. Eyes Only, the last crusader for a lost cause. The knight in shining armor. She smiled.  
"Max?" The soft voice startled her from her thoughts.  
Max stood up and walked through the ragged, brown cloth that separated her poor excuse for a "room" from the rest of the "apartment". It was more of a ratcage, and they were the rats. But he was in their ratcage. Seated in his wheelchair, he still looked as charming as when they first met. He had such poise, such charisma. She loved him. He tilted his head and smiled when he saw her walking his way. That coy, little Semi-Mona Lisa smile. Shaking off her thoughts, she crossed her arms and looked at him. No time to be sappy.  
"What are you doing here?"  
"You sound real happy to see me." Logan smirked.   
"Yeah, absolutely estatic," She paused. "So what big event brings you to this dump I call my apartment? Did I forget someone's birthday? Some terrorists decided to blow up some big buildings and you need me to stop them? Decided to make a booty call?"   
The last remark won her the "look". He raised an eyebrow at her, then semi-frowned, as if perplexed and in deep thought.   
"Actually, I'm wondering if you'd like to come with me to this charity banquet."   
"Free food, a chance to get all dolled up and pretend to be rich? Wouldn't miss it for the world," Max raised her eyebrows and bit her lip. "What's the catch?"  
Again, her last remark won her the "look". Logan once again raised an eyebrow and knit his eyebrows together in a frown. He looked absolutely confused.  
"What catch?"   
"There's always a catch. Either there are gonna be some big bad guys whose asses you want me to kick that are gonna be attending this banquet, or it's one of those banquets that are sabotogued for disaster and you want me to kiss its boo-boos and make it all better." Max suddenly realized how bitter she sounded when she saw the look on Logan's face fall.   
"There...really..is..no...catch, Max." Logan said softly after a moment of awkward silence.  
"Oh," Max paused, then smiled and walked over to his wheelchair. "Let's go buy you a pretty new dress for this banquet, Logan."  
Logan looked up at her and smiled. "Sure."  



	3. Chapter 2

> Original Cindy couldn't believe what she was just told. _Her_ boo was going to a _charity_ banquet. Not only was she going to a _charity_ banquet, of all things, but she was going in a dress that her very obviously rich boyfriend had bought for her. Had she woken up and hit her head too hard on her headboard in the process?  
Shaking her head and staring at Max over the cup of coffee they were sharing, she raised her eyebrows. "Girl, don't you be forgetting your homegirls now that you're all going to these rich people charity things."  
Max laughed. "Don't worry, I would never give up you or Kendra for those snots. All they talk about is their stock portfolios or political stuff that makes me want to shoot myself in the head."  
Their conversation was interrupted by a crash and a hair-raising screech of horror. They turned around to see Normal, complete with his microphone head-set, brown loafers, tan slacks, and that polo shirt he always wore dripping from head to toe in a yellow-brown...goo. Sketchy was sprawled on the floor about five feet away in a tangle of packages and his bicycle. A package, by the looks of it where the goo originated from was at Normal's feet. Sketchy scrambled up and ran his hands through his hair, his eyes big.   
"Uh...oops."   
At that remark, Jam Pony Express employees burst out laughing. Sketchy's little...fall would certainly keep Normal from running into the path of incoming bicyles like he constantly did on a daily basis for a while.   
"You think this is funny? It's not funny! Get back to work all of you! Bip bip bip!" Normal fumed. "I'm going to go change. Original Cindy, you're in charge. Make sure all packages marked--"  
"I know the drill Normal, go get yourself out of that...goo. Don't worry 'bout me, Original Cindy's got you covered."   
Max's pager went off at that moment. _555-1669_. _Logan._ Biting on her lower lip, she grabbed a random package. "Gotta blaze."   
"Where you goin, girl?" Original Cindy asked.  
"Gonna meet up with a friend."   
  
Max smiled to herself when she saw him. His back was towards her and he hadn't heard her enter. As usual, he was typing away at the computer. How that man could sit still for hours in front of some stupid machine was beyond her. How anyone could possibly do that was amazing. Max couldn't sit still for two minutes. She didn't like to sit, so it didn't matter anyways. Knocking on the door frame, she smiled as Logan turned his head around and smiled at her. His eyes always lit up when they saw her. They were blue. So amazingly blue. How come she had never noticed how beautiful his eyes were before?   
Logan cleared his throat. "Hey."  
Max walked up behind him and peered over his shoulder at the computer screen. A file had been pulled up of a man. He was dark-skinned with squinty eyes. He had slicked back black hair and a bit of a Logan-ish scruff on his face. "Looks like someone lost a beauty pageant."  
"His name is Edward Steele," Logan selected the file and enlarged it. "He is the leader of a terrorist group called Delta9. Delta9 is a highly sophisticated elite group of terrorists that were held responsible for the outbreak of ebola in St. Louis, Missouri in '19 and they have literally an arsenol of biological agents that include the new virus, X54 which they created."  
"That's all very nice but what's the big deal?" Max pushed a piece of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear and crossed her arms.   
"X54 is a very fatal pathogen. Once a victim is exposed to it, they die within two days of the exposure." Logan brought up a grotesque picture of a freshly dead X54 female victim. Her skin had split to the bone and large, black oozing legions had taken over half of her face.  
"Gross." Max made a face.  
"Sources tell me that Delta9 is planning on creating a "perfect world" by killing hundreds, thousands with this virus. Those who they believe to be a "perfect citizen" will receive an antidote which will make them immune to the symptoms."  
"Survival of the fittest." Max murmered.  
Logan looked up at her and adjusted his glasses. "Exactly."   



End file.
